Five Scenes: Heaven
by fiologica
Summary: Aziraphale. Of-Raphael. The cherub had been assigned to Archangel Raphael's care, raised with love, taught to heal and help. Meanwhile, floating through the chilly depths of space, the angel Zazaeil knew not what the Lord's plan had in store. Nobody had known or thought of how it could all go so terribly wrong.


~1~

_Aziraphale_. _Of-Raphael_. The cherub had been assigned to Archangel Raphael's care, raised with love, taught to heal and help. Back then, there had been precious few injuries, a blessed lack of ailments. Still, there was always work to be getting on with. Accidents happened in the course of creation, for example, and the process of moulting sometimes required care and attention. So, gentle hands soothed and calmed. A kind spirit blessed and restored.

As the Lord's plan progressed, they worked together to create, signed the plants with their purpose. They filled the Earth with the things that would one day be of use to its occupants. The best works were placed in a garden. 'Eden', they called it: 'the garden of pleasure'.

Called to the service of the Lord's throne, Aziraphale stood among the Cherubim, alongside the Seven Archangels. It was good, the Lord had proclaimed, that the earth, that the garden of pleasure within it, had been made perfect. Soon, the plan would come to fruition, the final elements were nearly ready.

As it was in Heaven above, so it was on Earth below: in the Lord's sight, it was good.

~2~

Floating through the chilly depths of space, the angel Zazaeil knew not what the Lord's plan had in store. Wings the shade of night fluttered, visible only by the glow of the angel's handiwork, while the light of distant stars glittered as diamonds embroidered in the fabric of the night.

The elements of creation coalesced in pools of colour and light, the nurseries of the stars. Here and there, a few collapsed as an infant star burst into life, sloughing off the caul of gestation. From the remnants, dust became stones became rocks became boulders… growing ever larger, until they became planets, falling into orbit around their star.

A system with twin stars brought a smile of delight to Zazaeil's face. Stardust marked his hands and face, golden irises ringing his eyes, the blessing that marked him as a creator. Auburn ringlets streamed from his crown, framing sharp features.

Maybe it would be that, from the planet Earth, the Lord's pet project, they might not see the twin stars for what they were. Maybe it would be that it would take years for their light to even reach the Earth. Maybe it would seem to be just another pale point in the velvet night.

Zazaeil regarded the twin stars as they orbited around each other, a warmth settling in his chest as he watched.

Maybe this would all be true, but the truth didn't change: it was good.

~ 3 ~

Nobody had known or thought of how it could all go so terribly wrong.

It started with a man.

Or, rather, to be more exact, it started with the creation of man.

After the Earth's creation had been completed, when the Garden of Pleasure was _Just Right_, the first humans were placed in the garden. Stewards, to protect and serve the very earth of which they were made.

Earth's story, only just begun, had already reached its first plot twist. The humans were different from the rest of the Lord's children: they had no wings, no powers. Outside the nurturing embrace of Eden, they very likely would not survive.

They also had free will.

Free will to love, or not. Free will to do what is right, or not. Free will to embrace and cherish their creator. Or not.

Lucifer had questions. If they did not know the difference between right and wrong, how could they be free to make that choice? How could it be that they might choose not to love each other? How could the Lord make them such that they might not honour and obey?

In the night, the world's first apple tree sprung up.

In turn, a certain cherubim with golden curls was in the party of angels sent to guard the tree and the garden, to warn the humans that the fruit was not intended for consumption.

Before the newly appointed Guardian of the Eastern Gate was deployed, Archangel Raphael called him to the infirmary.

For a time, Raphael said nothing, just studied his charge. Aziraphale wanted to fidget under the intense gaze of the one who had raised him. It was as if Archangel Raphael could see into the very depths of his soul - which, all things considered, was highly likely. Yet, Aziraphale forced himself to meet Raphael's stare, to allow the final assessment of his spirit, of everything he had been forged into.

Then, after a while, Archangel Raphael nodded slowly, offering a smile that did not quite mask the- whatever that was in Raphael's expression, for sorrow was not yet a known emotion.

"This new responsibility," said Raphael, resting a hand on Aziraphale's shoulder, "we… the Lord alone knows what will happen, but… well… I have full faith that you will know what to do, and… what is good, and right."

Aziraphale could only nod in response. He had been trained for the position, given a corporation, and soon, he would meet the newest of the Lord's creations. He silently hoped to never have to use the sword he had been given (it could call holy flames into existence!), and swallowing past the - whatever feeling it was, as fear had not yet been identified as an emotion - Aziraphale bowed his head to Archangel Raphael, a gesture of gratitude, of love, of a child honouring a parent.

"Thank you," he said.

Archangel Raphael squeezed his shoulder, rubbing gently with a thumb.

"The Lord bless you and keep you, Aziraphale, and may your memories of your time here be a compass to guide you."

~ 4 ~

While the Garden of Pleasure knew the peace of such a paradise, Adam and Eve, the children of the Lord, grew together. Love was palpable all over the garden: it was in every blade of grass, every tree, every creature, every atom of creation. The two humans shared in that love. As he guarded the apple tree, and dutifully patrolled the area around the Eastern Gate, Aziraphale watched over the occupants of the garden with pure angelic love.

Nobody knew that Heaven was in turmoil.

Zazaeil had returned from placing stars into the firmament, and found that a leaden pall had fallen over the once joyous realm. Row upon row of the injured had been laid out wherever there was space. Archangel Raphael worked alongside a veritable battalion of angels to ease pain, to comfort distress, to bind and heal injuries.

How could it be that such… such suffering, could possibly happen? How could it be that the Lord would allow it? How and why?

Archangel Raphael had explained the circumstances: that there had been an uprising, a revolt; that Lucifer, the light-bearer, a senior angel, had lead the charge; that it had started as a protest, a barrage of questions; and ultimately ended in a refusal to bow to the Lord's creations.

Zazaeil had opened his mouth to attempt a response, words failing before he could express them. It was like drowning beneath the numerous questions he wanted to ask, sheer confusion giving way as he turned to study the endless rows of suffering angels. His heart finally shattered as the waves of pain and despair washed over him, and he sank to Raphael's feet and wept.

Some time later, the leaders of the rebellion were brought to trial. Zazaeil had watched as the charges were read. Countless angels had been destroyed in the fighting. It still defied understanding that the act of asking questions had led to such terrible scenes. Zazaeil's stomach turned as the Heavens opened and the newly condemned fell to their fate, to pools of sulphur and flame. Some of them had been in tears, shaking in terror; some had begged for mercy, for forgiveness.

Zazaeil would never quite remember how he found himself in the thick of things, screaming through tears for it all to stop. Begging the Almighty to have mercy on the brothers and sisters who had been surely sent to a fate worse than death. Sobbing at the feet of stony-faced Archangels. The last thing he remembered was grabbing a sword as they closed in around him, surrounding him. Then the Heavens opened under his feet, and the ground - no, pools of sulphur and intense heat and awful crimson flame - rushed up to meet him.

The last thing he knew was being dragged under the currents of infernal fire, stealing away his breath, and burning him to his very core.

~ 5 ~

Archangel Raphael had visited the Garden of Pleasure to inform the angels of the gates about the horror that had unfolded above.

Aziraphale had been troubled by the haunted expression in Archangel Raphael's eyes, and by the tragic tale of what had taken place. The Archangel had also delivered a warning: that there may be reprisals, and to stay on their toes.

A sombre night passed in the garden. The angels tasked with guarding the garden jumped at shadows, and bore hearts heavy with grief for their fallen family.

Adam and Eve held each other just a little closer as they slept.

The following day, the age of human innocence came to an end, as a serpent offered forbidden fruit to Eve, as Adam took it, as their eyes were opened to the knowledge of good and evil. None of the angels could keep from flinching at the Lord's sharp words and the judgement pronounced upon the humans.

As the first humans trekked across the wilderness together, granted a flaming sword as their first - and last - gift from Heaven, an angel watched from atop the wall of the Eastern Gate. A demon in gray robes watched alongside him, and as thunder rumbled through the leaden sky, the angel raised his wing as an invitation to shelter.

Things would never quite be the same again.

**END**


End file.
